


Just say pretty, just say pretty, just say pretty please

by liyumpeyn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forehead Kisses, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Schmoop, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3918370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liyumpeyn/pseuds/liyumpeyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Now sex was almost a daily thing, something new happening typically every time. So much so that they were running out of things to experiment with. Breath Play, wax play, spanking, cross dressing, edging, that one weird time where Zayn managed to fist Harry. But bondage was new, a new challenge</i>
</p>
<p>(aka the one where Zayn and Harry try light bondage and Harry dips into light subspace)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just say pretty, just say pretty, just say pretty please

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trishapocalypse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/gifts).



> Prompt- "get on your knees" song fic
> 
> Hope I fulfilled this although knowing me, I strayed far off. Probably my piece of writing I'm most proud of writing at this point so I hope you enjoy it!

It had been so, so easy to lure Harry in. One quick lip of the lips and a drink slid across the table and Zayn had Harry wrapped around his little finger. Of course it was all luck that had Zayn picking Harry's favourite drink, but from a quick analysis he came to the conclusion that Harry wasn't one for shots and certainly not full strength beer. From then on it was a simple process of luring Harry onto the dance floor and playing hard to get until Harry was chasing after him and they were grinding against each other in the back of the club at the end of the night. But that was six months ago. They've come a long way since then, really.

"Bondage." Harry says suddenly when they're sitting at their dining table in their pajamas on a particularly sunny Saturday. Zayn about chokes on his coffee, the drink spilling over the edge of his mug as he splutters into it.

"Excuse me?" Zayn says quietly once he's coughed a few times and set his coffee back down on the table. Harry just hums, twisting his bottom lip between his fingers and thumbing the corner of whatever book it is he's reading.

"We haven't tried bondage before." He replies softly after Zayn kicks his ankles to make him look up. Zayns cheeks flushing hotly as he thinks about it because, no, they haven't.

"Well you never said you wanted to." Zayn mumbles and picks his mug back up to take a sip, eyeing Harry over the rim. Harry just folds the corner of his page down and slides it into the middle of the table. Zayn tuts, pushing the book back to Harry and watching as he slowly unfolds the corner and replaces it with a bookmark. "You keep trashing my books, mate."

"Well I don't _mean_ to, babe. It's just easier than shoving a flimsy bit of plastic in!" Harry exclaims, tipping the book over to make a point and they both watch as the bookmark flutters out of the loose pages and lands softly on the floor by Harry's feet. With one quirk of his eyebrow Zayn has Harry scrambling to pick it up and shoving it back into the book, putting it back down on the top of the stack of books they keep on their table.

" _Anyway_ , you want to try bondage?" Zayn asks, crossing his legs and watching as Harry just gives a small shrug, fidgeting his hands in his lap. "Is that a yes shrug or no shrug, bebs?" Harry takes in a big breath, tugging at the loose white shirt he's wearing and shrugs again. He's not looking up though so Zayn takes it as an embarrassed yes. He still wants a vocal answer though. "Well?" 

Harry finally looks up, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. "Yes, it's a yes." Zayn nods, taking a long sip from his near empty coffee cup and then leaning over the table to look at Harry properly. He looks pretty with all the sunlight filtering in from their skylight. It had officially become _their_ skylight three weeks ago when Harry had brought in three boxes of clothes and another two of random junk and made himself at home. But now they're sitting comfortably in their simple black chairs and facing each other at the small table and the left side of Harry's face is lit up by the big bay window beside them, casting shadow of his eyelashes on his cheeks and turning his skin a smooth white.

"When do you want to try?" Because by now they had gotten over the uncomfortable stage of sex, the stage where the mere word coming from Zayn made Harry's dick twitch in his pants and a hot flush creep up his neck. Now sex was almost a daily thing, something new happening typically every time. So much so that they were running out of things to experiment with. Breath Play, wax play, spanking, cross dressing, edging, that one weird time where Zayn managed to fist Harry. But bondage was new, a new challenge. Harry mumbles something that Zayn doesn't quite catch and leans forward in his seat, a stray curl from his bun falling into his face. Zayn leans over to tuck it back into place, tilting Harry's head up in the process.

"Today?" Harry suggests as he keeps nibbling on his bottom lip and Zayn gives him a small nod, returning to his seat to finish the rest of his coffee.

\--------

The hardware store was out of soft rope. As was the convenience store. So the last thing Zayn had to resort to were ribbons. Stupid pale blue, silky smooth, white polka dot ribbons. Harry clapped with glee when Zayn came home at 1o'clock that afternoon and dumped the shopping bag on the table. Zayn shrugged his fluffy jacket off as Harry pulled the ribbons out and took in just how much Zayn had bought.

"How much... How much is here?" Harry gasped, finally tipping the bag upside down and standing stock still as a massive pile of long, curly ribbon fell out. Zayn toes his boots off as he makes his way to Harry, rubbing little circles into the small of his back and resting his head on his shoulder. In hindsight he probably had bought too much but better to be safe than sorry, right.

Zayn doesn't really respond, just takes his hand and bundles up the ribbon and dumps both in the bedroom, shutting the door as he backs out with a quick call of "You know what to do, I'm going to have a shower."

He trusts Harry to behave himself as he slips out of his jeans and shirt and climbs into the shower, rolling his shoulders when the warm water dribbles and then finally bursts to life and begins to properly flow. The shower has always really been a safe-haven for Zayn, his quiet zen place. And it's no different now. 

Because from the start it was easy for Zayn to disassociate sex and his normal life. It was definitely harder for Harry, the younger of the two, but being Zayn's sub came with it's benefits in the sense that Zayn would look after him whenever he needed and wanted to be looked after, so long as it was on Zayn's terms and they played by Zayn's rules. And if that included sucking his own dick, then that's fine, Zayn only tried that once anyway to really test how bendy Harry was. Spoiler alert, Harry was lying about how much yoga he did.

When Zayn finally finishes showering and the room smells like Harry's ridiculous shampoos and Zayn's musk body wash, he gathers up his dirty clothes, towels off his hair, quickly dries himself and then paces back across the hallway to his and Harry's room. 

He uses his elbow to open the door and doesn't even face the bed before shutting the door and dumping his dirty clothes in the laundry basket behind it. He knows, without having to look, that Harry is spread out in the bed, feet probably hanging of the edges and hands behind his head. But he still doesn't look, even when Zayn paces across the room to shut the door of the cupboard that Harry's left open and he hears a small grunt from the bed. And then he catches sight of Harry in the mirror attached to the front of the door and his wind is knocked out of him and simultaneously to that, he's full of life.

"Harry." Zayn whispers, watching the way Harry eyes blink slowly and a nervous smiles spreads across his face. His feet twitch on the bed from what Zayn can see and he turns around slowly. Harry is sprawled out on the bed, that much Zayn knew would happen. But _oh_. "What are you wearing, H?" He asks slowly, hands always itching to touch even though he knows better, knows that touching can wait a minute or so.

They're Zayn's favourite, and Harry knows it if the way his smile grows and his eyes flicker with _something_. "The ones with a bow on 'em." Harry states matter of factly, one hand coming down to fiddle with the little white bow at the front of his panties. And _god_ , Zayn still doesn't know how he got so lucky. Zayn nods firmly, making his way over to the bed and trailing a hand up Harry's smooth leg, coming to rest where the blue lace of the panties begins. Zayn can see absolutely everything from Harry's trimmed treasure trail, to the pink head of his cock and the well manicured pubic hair at it's base. Harry's chest rises and falls rapidly as Zayn crawls up the bed, pinching the skin of Harry's stomach and finally resting a hand on his shoulder, using the leverage to haul him down the bed and closer to Zayn.

"Mm, can see that. My favourites,” Zayn pauses to kiss his shoulder. “Make your skin look so pretty." Zayn murmurs against his neck, sucking harshly on the skin near Harry's ear and smirking when Harry's body rises off the bed, a little gasp leaving his body as Zayn pushes him back down and continues sucking until there's a purple bruise just under his hairline. Zayn wakes a small growling noise in the back of his throat, slipping one strong arm under Harry's torso and hauling him upwards quickly. 

Harry sits up, had lolling a bit before he’s swallowing thickly and Zayn positions him so hes sitting with his legs over the edge of the bed. His big hands grip the edge of the bed, knuckles going white when Zayn fits a leg between both of his and pushes his knee up against his crotch. Harry is effectively now straddling Zayn's leg, dick pressed right up into the hard pressure of his thigh and he lets out a small hiss, looking up at Zayn with these massive green eyes that just scream _please_.

"Touch." And Harry does, fingers crawling quickly up Zayns thigh until they're fitted into the little grooves of Zayn’s V line. He ruts helplessly up into Zayn's thigh, his clothed dick rubbing harshly against his strong muscle. Zayn looks down at him, one hand coming up to rest at the back of Harry's head, tugging on the fine hairs at the nape of his necks as Harry lets out little _uh uh_ 's and keeps rubbing himself off on Zayn's leg. It's almost animalistic and Zayn wonders just how much he's been thinking about what's about to go down. 

"Please, please." Harry begs below him and Zayn rubs a thumb along his sharp jaw, catching his lower lip and rubbing across it as Harry breathes hotly against the digit. It's just the way Zayn likes to see Harry, all hot and flustered and just _desperate_ for what Zayn could give him. He's a good sub.

Then Harry starts slipping off the edge of the bed and Zayn makes no attempt at catching him except to lift his leg up higher and to push it into his chest a bit when he finally lands on his knees on the floor. The hairs framing Harry's face are all sticking to him with sweat and Zayn can still see the lovely bruise where he's marked up his boy, he's truly beautiful. 

"Please what, Harry?" Zayn says, crouching down so he's just above eye level with Harry. There's this sort of panicked look in his eyes like he thinks he's done the wrong thing, but Zayn eases it out with a small smile and the brush of his hand against Harry's chest. Below his fingers he feels Harry's rabbiting heartbeat and he does nothing to covering up the twitch it sends to his cock. And he knows Harry feels it too, when the tip of it brushes against his thigh and he sucks in a sharp breath, eyelids fluttering shut.

Zayn backs away from him slowly, heart aching just a little at the way Harry's finger twitch by his side like he longs to just follow Zayn to wherever he's going. But Zayn leaves him where he is with a pointed glare at his sub when he makes to get up as well. "You stay there, love." And Harry shoulders slump a bit like he had been holding in a breath. Zayn makes his way to Harry's side of the bed where the ribbons have dropped off the edge and are pooling in the floor. He bundles them all up quickly, taking his time to get back to Harry who is waiting patiently on his knees, staring straight at the wall ahead.

He lets out a relieved breath when Zayn comes up behind him and sits on the bed, a ribbon in one hand while he tugs out the elastic in Harry's hair and watches the curls spring loose, falling in little ringlets. He thanks whichever one of his parents signed him up for boys scouts when he was younger and bundles Harry's hair back up, fastening one of the shorter ribbons to the base of the pony tail his hair makes and making sure it's laced well so that it won't slip out.

"How... How does it look..." Harry asks softly. His hand comes up to touch the ribbon and Zayn bats it away with a low growl. Harry takes his hand back quickly, clasping both of them obediently behind his back. From behind him Zayn pushes his shoulders forward so that he slumps over and picks up his clasped hands. This little noise leaves Harry's mouth as he realises that _yes, yes, it was actually happening_. Zayn just slides a ribbon between Harry's wrists, looping it a few times to secure it before tying it in a tight knot that he knows how to easily undo.

"You look pretty. Safe word?" Zayn says, turning Harry around to face him. He shuffles around on his knees, big doe eyes looking up at Zayn from the floor and then flickering down to Zayn's dick that sits heavy between his legs. Harry spaces out for a moment, just staring at Zayns crotch and nodding before Zayn tugs his chin up and forces him to look him in the eyes. A look of concern flickers across Zayns face and Harry just gives him a small smile, rolling his shoulders back to feel the tug the ribbons give his wrists when they stretch. "No, safe word, Harry. Say it."

"Rose." Harry whimpers, eyes dragging down to the tattoo gracing Zayn’s arm where he had gotten a matching one to Harry a few weeks ago. They've only had to use the safe word once as far as Harry remembers. The time when Harry was made to try and suck his own dick. It wasn't even Harry who had used it, rather Zayn had, a pained expression on his face as he held Harry's body up and helped him push his hips down. Then it had gotten a bit too much and Harry's face was going too red and no matter how much Harry had insisted that he could do it, Zayn had called it quits and they spent the rest of the night watching bad comedies and eating popcorn.

"Good boy." Harry glows at the praise, following Zayn with his eyes when he stands from the bed and makes his way to be behind Harry again. From there he grabs hold of the ribbon at Harry's wrists and pulls upwards, making Harry stand up. Harry intakes a quick breath, almost toppling forward as he struggles to get up, before Zayn's there with a hand around his middle and another pinning his hands to his back and righting him.

Once Harry's standing, Zayn edges him towards the bed, pushing him down by his shoulders until he falls onto the soft duvet with a thump and Zayn props his knees up so that his spine curves and his ass is in the air. He pulls the soft fabric of Harry's panties down slowly, running a hand over Harry's pretty ass when it's finally free of the panties and they're just hanging around one of his ankles. Harry's face is pressed right into the duvet and his fingers are clenching and unclenching at the small of his back. Zayn's left his own cock pretty much untouched until now and he takes this as the perfect moment to drag it through the crack of Harry's ass, lingering with his tip just nestled at his hole.

"Zayn!" Harry cries out and Zayn just runs a hand down the curve of his back, kneading at all the tense muscles and playing with the small curls on his neck that have escaped the ribbon. He's so, so pretty like this. All red and sweaty and panting wetly into the cotton beneath him. Zayn then scrapes his hand down Harry's back on his way back to his ass, earning a slow hiss and red raw scrapes all down Harry's back. 

Harry squeezes his legs together when Zayn runs a slow lazy finger around his hole, pushing the tip of his index finger in dryly. His hands are constantly fidgeting at his back and when Zayn places his hand over both of Harry's, his fingers grip onto him as best as they can, latching on to him and not letting go until Zayn draws his other hand away from Harry's ass.

"You get to pick a flavour today, Harry." Zayn knows it's his absolute favourite thing to do because after he fingers him and eats him out, Zayn will kiss him and he'll be able to catch the taste of it on Zayn's tongue.

"Strawberry." Harry huffs into the sheets, squeaking as Zayn pushes his ass into the duvet, making his spine curl even more. Zayn keeps one hand on his ass, using it to balance as he leans over and rifles through their bedside drawers until he finds the small pink bottle. It's not as heavy as it used to be and the lids nearly falling off from how often they've used it. When Zayn looks back down at Harry he's met with Harry staring back up at him. 

"Strawberry." Zayn parrots, chucking the bottle down the bed a bit and pressing a quick kiss to Harry's temple. Harry leans back to chase after the kiss but Zayn's long gone, back to his position behind Harry with a finger drawing circles onto his ass and the other one thumbing off the cap. The smell is immediate, this plastic strawberry smell that Zayn's near sick to death of, but Harry always seems to go after it and who was he to deny him.

It's when Zayn finally lubes up his index finger and pushes the first joint in that Harry lets out this happy growl, thrusting his ass back to push the finger in father before thinking better of it and relaxing into Zayn's gentle touch. With his hands behind his back he's finding it increasingly frustrating to do anything except just lie there and let Zayn use his body as he pleases. But Zayn plays with him with the same concentration and focus as he graffitis. He knows where to touch to get the best sounds and where to kiss to get the greatest reactions. He's quick and gentle but he knows what he's doing.

Then Zayn pushes in his whole finger and Harry tenses before melting into the bed, eyes squeezing shut and his mouth making an ‘O’ shape as he breathes out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Then Zayn begins to slide another finger in beside that and Harry's hands spasm, opening and closing and stretching as he tries to fight the restraints to get a hand down and touch himself. When he looks back Zayn has his tongue between his teeth and he's crooking his fingers, fumbling around to try and find Harry's prostate and _oh_.

"Shit!" Harry cries suddenly, letting out a roar of pleasure and grinding back against Zayn's hand. Zayn complies, massaging the spot and grinning when Harry cries out again and balls his fists up. Only, Zayn knows he takes the lead at all times and when Harry goes to roll his hips back on Zayn's hand again, he lubes up another finger and shoves it in quickly. It's priceless, the scream that Harry lets out, dully muffled by the duvet. His throat feels dry and he has sweat rolling down his cheeks and everything just _burns_ , but god it feels good.

Zayn then leans down and licks around where his fingers are shoved in. Ass tastes like ass no matter how much you scrub but it tastes faintly of the lube leaking down to his balls and Zayn pulls his fingers out swiftly, replacing them with his tongue. He has no patience for Harry's constant shifting and pins him down with one arm, pressing his hips down into the bed. 

"Babe, stop wriggling." Zayn mumbles, lips sticky with the lube leaking out of Harry's hole, he doesn't mind. Harry nods, letting his shoulders relax as Zayn swipes a thumb quickly over his hole, Harry’s hips rutting down into the sheets and then back against his face as he tries desperately to get some sort of friction on his dick. Zayn lets out a displeased grunt as he continues to tongue around his hole, taking his time to get familiarised once again with the tight ring of muscle. 

He really knows he won’t last much longer himself if the foreplay continues on like this. So it’s a quick decision to pull his face away, thumb quickly over the little dimples in Harry’s back and then scrape a nail down the perfect line of the dip of his spine. Harry lets out this grunt, biting wetly into the duvet as Zayn leans forward and quickly swipes one of the condoms off the top of the desk and rips open the packet with his teeth.

“ _Please_ Zayn.” Harry murmurs, curling his back to press himself back against Zayn’s leg. Zayn flicks at his ass, watching the little mark bloom red and then fade to a pink smudge. Harry’s legs spread just that little bit wider, hips lifting that tiny bit further off the bed because this is taking so _long_.

Zayn takes the frustrated noise Hary then lets out as his cue to roll the condom down his length and discard the silver packet somewhere past Harry’s head. He’s gentle, always is with his boy. But Harry’s persistent, rolling himself back against Zayn’s leg in this steady rhythm while Zayn strokes his length a few times. When Zayn shifts his hips a bit and the tip of his dick nudges against Harry’s leg, Harry’s shoulders roll back and he lets out this pant, letting his eyes flicker shut as droplets of sweat trickle down his neck. 

They’re both aware the sex won’t last long, not when Harry’s had a good twenty minutes of being exhaustedly turned on and Zayn’s been at his hole. The fact that Harry’s hands are still pinned to his back by the pretty ribbons is just adding to the experience and Zayn’s so, _so_ happy he suggested it. 

So he thrusts forward quickly, hips stuttering to a halt a second too late. He’s balls deep when Harry nears screams, hands opening and closing and opening and closing and opening again as he gets used to the burn. Zayn knows he take it even harder than that and so only pauses for a second when Harry shuddering out a breath before pulling out and pumping back in, grabbing hold of Harry’s wrists for leverage. It becomes this cacophony of sounds when Zayn starts grunting and Harry squeezes his eyes shut, letting out soft “ _uh, uh, uh, fuck_ ”’s.

And _god_ , Zayn’s close, has been for a little while, though he would never care to admit it. Something so foreign and exciting about having Harry so desperate and immobile. It has him pounding in fast as Harry just lies there, his face turned to the side as he pants into his own shoulder and lets Zayn do whatever he wants, it’s his favourite thing to do really. 

“How far?” Zayn grunts, slowing down to a lazy rut against Harry’s ass as Harry looks over his shoulder with heavily lidded eyes and mouths _close_. He nods, tucking another curl off Harry’s face and back behind his ear, earning himself a grateful smile.

Harry’s eyes don’t shut again for a while, remaining locked on Zayn’s as he thrust quickly into Harry and everything gets blurry. At that point he squeezes them shut, clamping himself down against Zayn’s length as Zayn cries out, one hand coming up to grab hold of the fine hairs at Harry’s neck. He tugs hard once before his hips stutter forward and he moves both hands down to press against the small of Harry’s back while he just grunts and rolls his hips down into Harry’s ass and rides out his high.

“Zayn.” Harry sighs as he pulls out. From there Harry just ruts himself down into the sheets, arms still pinned behind himself as he tries desperately to chase his climax. Zayn rocks back on his heels, this unspoken agreement that Harry should let himself do whatever he wants. He leans over him, pressing little kisses to his moving back as he pulls off his condom and ties it in a knot, throwing it in the general direction of the waste bin.

“Go, baby.” And that does it for Harry. He comes on the duvet with a shout, hand clenching around nothing when Zayn goes to untie the knot quickly. He has a few seconds before he knows Harry will go all lax, subspace closing in on him. When he finally gets the knot undone he separates Harry’s hands quickly and pulls him up until he’s collapsing against Zayn's body and Zayn’s just there rocking him slowly, whispering in his ear and stroking his hair. 

The aftercare is immediate and he does whatever it takes to bring Harry back for a little bit, laying him down away from the little blotch of come on the duvet, rucking the sheets up around him as Harry just blinks heavy and slow. He strokes the hair at Harry’s forehead away from his eyes, lying down beside him to kiss his shoulders and stroke his arm until Harry’s breathing better and there’s a more focused look in his eyes.

He doesn’t leave Harry’s side until he’s seeing clearly and he’s able to get up to clean himself up. Even then he’s trailing him to the bathroom, warming a towel up for him because he’s _so_ cautious of how easy it is for Harry to slip back under because he does go into subspace even in the most casual of scenes.

But he doesn’t slip back under and he pulls the little ribbon out of his hair, handing it back to Zayn who just loops it around one of his wrists instead. 

He watches as Harry strips the duvet cover off the bed, piling it in the laundry basket before pulling the panties back on and slipping back under the covers. It’s easy for both of them to forget momentarily about the previous events, maybe more so for Zayn. But he just climbs into bed with Harry, letting Harry guide his arm around his middle, cuddling his little spoon close. 

Harry’s snoring softly within minutes and Zayn isn’t close behind, chapped lips pressing small kisses to Harry’s shoulders before nuzzling into his hair and lulling himself to sleep with the gentle rise and fall of his chest while the sun is only really just beginning to dip outside.


End file.
